It Starts With
by JaceyKat
Summary: They had a drunken night a long time ago. Now Dean thinks they're going to talk about it, but Sam knows that Dean doesn't speak well with words. Psh, plot. *snerrt*


It Starts With...

A/N: Just a spoonful of plot helps the boys go down... On each other... I'm going to hell for this.

I only borrowed them! And I was... briefly... inspired by One More Bottle by Hollywood Undead to write this... Thank ponies for musical muses!

Love you all :3

They'd been dancing around each other for months. Neither of them were willing to shove after the initial push and honestly, it was killing them. Both of them knew it. Fights weren't really as common as they would like to admit before that. The biggest problem was that they didn't regret what happened, not one second of it. Still, they had both been drunk off their asses, completely smashed, wrung out and crazy enough to laugh through something that they'd wanted forever.

It had been after a hunt, everything emotional always seemed to happen right after a hunt, and this hunt was a weird one. A witch that actually turned people into animals had terrorized multiple cities in Oklahoma, and Dean spent two hours as a kitten before Sam showed up with the witch burning kit. Even after the killing, Dean didn't change back for another hour, spending his time scratching up the motel room they were staying in and meowing at Sam just to be annoying. It was great fun, running away from the giant human while he screamed bloody murder at something less than a tenth of his size. By that point Sam had already drunk a bottle of whiskey, poured Dean a bowl of Vodka and given him catnip.

After they thoroughly trashed the room, Sam fell shirtless on the couch and was asleep in seconds. Dean had curled up on his warm chest and done the same. He woke up naked, still drunk, and probably high as a kite. Sammy had a lack of clothing on too. Dean wasn't sure how the boy did it, but Sam had a bad habit of stripping in his sleep. In his mind, right then, he thought it would be logical to lick him. That golden skin was calling to him, it was shiny and smooth. Really, it wasn't fair how tasty his brother had looked right then. One lick had turned into two, two into many. Licking into sucking into kissing into biting until Sam woke up on a breathy hiss of "yes."

With a blink he was cold again. Dean stared at the view and took another swig of the beer he had clasped in his sweaty palm. Empire State of Mind echoed restlessly in his mind, a brainless ear worm keeping him from thinking about the silence. It was a metaphorical absence of noise, being at the top of the Empire State Building in the middle of the night could never be soundless with the wind rushing around him; it was probably illegal, being inside the building this late, let alone wrapped around the thick beams of the outside metal work. Dean couldn't help but think as the city lights lit the sky in a haze of pollution and clouds, that there was something about that night that was making him feel almost alright.

The clink of a glass bottle had Dean turning his head towards his brother, staring through the howling wind and wondering why they had decided this was a good idea. Sam was a good ten feet below him on another side of the spire. He looked shaky and uneven as he slowly made his way towards the platform they'd come out from. Dean felt his whole body tense up as he hawk-eyed his little brother, and as if he could feel the gaze, Sam looked up at him. Those hazel eyes were far away, but there was no mistaking the message there. They were going to talk, he knew the good feeling couldn't last.

Dean gave a sigh and finished his drink before starting the long scramble to safety. Each handhold got colder and colder until his fingers were numb, and still the city burned in his eyes, the alcohol burned in his stomach, and his heart burned in his throat. If there was one thing Dean hated more than anything, it was fighting with Sam. Little brother or no, sibling rivalry or no, Dean couldn't stand the way Sam's eyes would go flat and angry as an argument began, and slowly turn into a gooey, pervasive sadness as it ended. Usually with some insults that hit where they threw them. This talk that he and Sam were about to have, it was going to end up a fight, Dean wouldn't let it be anything else.

Dean was startled out of his thoughts as the toe of his boot hit concrete, a flat expanse of man-made stone leading to a decrepit metal door to the inside. Dean contemplated standing there forever. Just watching the lights of the city swirl against the starless sky. Then Sam was there, grabbing gently at his elbow and tugging him through the door. The sudden quiet after the gushing air outside made Dean's ears ring but he couldn't focus on that, his Sammy was pulling him along down the million flights of rusty old stairs that they'd taken on the way in. Every few minutes his younger brother would glance over. He tried to act normal, but with the concerned gleam in Sam's eyes, he couldn't find it in himself to believe it. It wasn't long before they were sneaking through hallways and rooms, ducking and hiding, avoiding guards and picking locks. He appreciated the distraction, Dean had every ounce of himself focused intently on not screwing up, not getting caught, and not letting little Sammy out of his sight. It was over too soon.

The drive back to the motel was... Uncomfortable... To say the least. A car full of elephant and so many good intentions Dean felt himself sliding into hell's gullet on a golden platter. Sam's penchant for talking about feelings was what got them into this mess in the first place, and Dean wasn't about to let it get worse.

The Impala glided to a graceful halt in front of a ramshackle building with a cheesy neon sign and peeling paint. Dean grabbed the last of the alcohol from the back seat and staggered into the place followed by a more sober looking but no less intoxicated Sam. Dean put the bottle on the table and fell back onto one of the beds and let the ceiling spin. He wanted to join in, it looked like fun, but he liked his stomach contents where they were, thanks. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the words Sam was about to start throwing. They never came. Dean let his eyelids drift open again to see Sam holding the bottle.

"One more bottle of Jack," he slurred.

Dean wasn't sure he wanted any more of the stuff in either of their systems, but he asked anyway. "What th'fuck we gonna do with it?" Sam just raised an eyebrow at him. "Get fucked up?"

"If you've got a problem with that, what're you gonna do 'bout it," Sam replied twisting the cap open and taking a long pull. Dean watched feeling a sudden anger flood through his veins.

He stood up, remaining standing on the tilted earth valiantly as he faced down his little brother. "Dammit, Sam!" He screamed stealing the bottle. It sloshed a stain onto the dirty carpet and Dean took a drink before pointing the neck of it at Sam. "If you have a problem, spit it out!" Dean was shocked when Sam's eyes remained the bright glaze of shit-faced and instead of yelling he smiled.

"I've got a little problem, and there's one easy way we can stop it." He muttered, stalking towards Dean with a look that was far too hungry and far too sober for Dean to feel comfortable, but he couldn't move, even when Sam's cheek was pressed against his and hot breath was ghosting a whisper across his ear. "It starts with my dick in your mouth."

In an instant Dean was on the floor, his hands scrabbling pathetically at his brother's hips. He couldn't remember why he'd wanted this to stop. Doing it drunk again probably wasn't the way to fix all this, but what else could he do, the wanting was killing him, and having this was perfection.

Sam let out a tiny moan as Dean mouthed over the crotch of his jeans. One of Dean's hands popped the button while the other slid up Sam's shirt, laying flat against the smooth expanse of skin. Large hands landed in his hair, tugging at the stands while pushing his head down gently. Dean slowly blinked his eyes up at his little brother, locking their gazes in a clash of forest and hazel.

"Sammy," Dean whispered keeping his eyes on Sam's face as he pulled denim and cotton down until he was hit in the face with a hard wet smack. Dean hadn't been surprised the first time he saw it, honestly, it was proportional to how damn tall Sam was. Maybe it had been a blow to his pride to find out he was only the bigger brother chronologically, but hell if Dean didn't love it.

He took the head with his lips and tongued it as softly as he could. Sam panted above him, eyes narrowed and head dropped forward. Dean smirked at how relaxed Sam looked right before he grabbed that beautiful ass and slammed the cock in his mouth down his throat, nearly splitting the sides of his lips. The action was met with a sharp weak cry that keened up an entire octave as Dean swallowed around the flesh.

"Oh god, Dean," Sam gasped grasping at Dean's head, fingers twitching sporadically. Dean bobbed his head once, letting his tongue zigzag across the underside of Sam's monstrous cock. It was hard to realize through Sam's reverent chant of Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, that Dean was about to come in his pants. Without being touched. Just from sucking his baby brother's dick. Fuck. He pulled off with a little lap at the precome dribbling from the tip and stood, ripping Sam's shirt off in the same movement.

The next few minutes were a blur of grabby hands and torn cloth and it ended with Dean on his back on the bed, legs spread to fit Sam's hips and two very big strong hands holding Dean's wrists above his head. There was a long pause where they both breathed hard and just watched each other's faces. Dean thought of all the things he could say at this point ("Fuck me baby brother," "My body is ready," or the worst one, "I think I'm in love with you,") and kept his mouth shut. He watched Sam's eyelashes flutter and held still while his face got closer. And closer.

They had never kissed before, it was too much, too personal, too loving. But now he had Sam's soft pink lips rubbing firmly across his own in the sweetest, gentlest kiss he'd ever experienced. He never wanted to stop. Sam tasted good. Really good. Like the air after a good rain, or the beach on a cloudy day. Once Sam let his hands go he couldn't keep them still, running them over the strong muscles of Sam's back tickling and massaging down his sides. Sam barely let his tongue drift out to lick across the seam on Deans lips, and Dean scratched a set of lines down Sam's spine. The new flurry of lips and tongues was soul sucking. Dean had one hand holding the back of Sam's neck and Sam was tugging Dean's hair until it was just this side of painful. Their bodies slid together in an agony of pleasure, so slow in contrast to the fierce meeting of tongues, Dean wanted to just melt into a little puddle of sexy.

When Sam pulled away for breath he had a dazzling smile on his face. Dean felt his eyebrows scrunch in confusion but Sam just smiled wider and shook his head before ducking back down to press little kisses to the corner of Dean's mouth, across his jaw and to his ear where Dean could barely hear the words being said past the little shivers of awesome that tingled down his spine.

"I love it when you won't talk, Dean," Sam breathed and nipped the lobe of Dean's ear. "Because I really enjoy making your actions scream."

Dean grunted as he found himself on his stomach with big hands raising his hips and pressing his chest into the covers leaving him exposed with his ass in the air. A bolt of heat spread through him just imagining what he must look like. Those huge hands were gently kneading the muscles of his back going lower and lower, thumbs rubbed little circles into the dimples on his lower back and he heard himself whimper pitifully. All he got was a shush and then there was a loud smack and Dean was jolted forwards on the bed with a loud moan. Sam rubbed the cheek he'd just hit lovingly before laying another slap across both, and then the other. Dean turned his head and choked out stuttered breaths and moans with every hit, pressing his hips back farther, silently begging for it. He was harder than he'd ever been before, he needed this, needed it like his next breath. A breath stolen by the sharp nip to a burning bit of flesh and turned into a wanton squeal.

"Stay," Sam ordered, and Dean felt the bed dip and raise as his little brother stood up and walked away. Dean stayed, still gasping, still filled with unbelievable pleasure, so much it hurt to not touch himself. He stayed. Sam took a moment to rifle through his backpack before he came back and swatted Dean's rump triumphantly. Dean bit into his hand to keep from coming on the spot, it felt like he was going to combust.

"I kinda want to play with you tonight," muttered Sam, his Sasquatch hands sliding up the back of Dean's thighs. Dean shivered and quaked under the touch, extremities going numb with tingly goodness. Thumbs spread his cheeks apart wide and Dean felt his face bloom red and he buried his nose in the covers, bracing himself. Despite the precaution, the first wet touch to his hole sent him into overload, writhing and squirming, thrusting his hips like a cheap whore. All the while he keened himself hoarse into the bed sheets, the cloth doing very little to muffle the loud cries. It was so good, it was wet, and hot, and so, so, so overwhelmingly /good/.

"Sammy," he yelped, "God Sammy, please!" Then there was a slick lubed up finger sliding in beside the soft tongue, stretching and crooking in all the right ways. The first was joined by a second, they twisted in ways that Dean would have labelled illegal if it wasn't so awesome he was damn near screaming with it. The third finger burned a bit, soothed only slightly by the tongue that kept pulsing hot and moist inside of him. When Sam added more lube and tucked his pinky in too, Dean felt like he was going to split open. Sam pulled out his tongue and licked teasingly around his fingers, but didn't slide the muscle back in, making it barely a bit more bearable. Sam sat up on his knees and bent over Dean's back to whisper soothing nonsense and Dean felt himself start to relax around the fingers in his ass. Embarrassingly high pitched noises were torn from his throat with every movement, until everything paused.

Sam bit the back of Dean's neck before whispering, "Dean, I have to ask. Can I do this?"

Dean was frankly amazed at his brother's restraint. He could feel Sam shaking, or maybe that was him, he honestly couldn't tell the difference anymore. He turned his face out of the covers and peered at Sam from the corner of one eye.

"Fuck me baby brother," he rasped. The hand that had been previously unnoticed on his hip made an aborted grab and just twitched against his skin. Sam smirked against the new bruise he'd sucked into Dean's neck.

"Yes, big brother," he said in an innocent voice. The heat in Dean's belly skyrocketed and Sam's fingers twisted around a few more times before leaving completely. Dean leaned into his elbow and panted wetly.

"Dean," whispered Sam, lining himself up and just waiting. Dean clenched his teeth in irritation.

"Dammit, Sammy, just fuck me!" Dean shoved his hips back onto the heat behind him and arched as the thick head slipped into him. Sam pulled back off and manhandled a very startled Dean onto his front before sliding back in. Sam had done a good job preparing him, it barely hurt at all. Dean hooked his feet together just above Sam's perfect ass and his arms slung over Sam's neck. His little brother took him by the hips and started pushing in with shallow teasing thrusts that deepened far too slowly. When their bodies finally lay flush together, connected as tightly as anatomy would allow Sam paused again, as if waiting for something, looking for something important in Dean's eyes. Dean didn't know what it was, so he tried to convey everything he was feeling through that optic link. He was overwhelmed, he was full, he was impatient, he was twisted around his little brother's pinky finger and he was so in love with that boy. Sam leaned in to press their lips together in another kiss that probably left Dean with cavities before sliding almost all the way out of Dean's body and just as slow, slid back in.

And that set the pace. An agonizingly slow undulating of hips that never ended. It was like waves on the ocean, rolling languidly, calmly. They didn't stop kissing, a soft gentle twining of tongues and lips, brief drags of teeth and hot breaths. With every thrust Sam's cock brushed Dean's prostate punching a breathy whine out of his lungs and through his nose, every sound swallowed by Sam as their mouths danced across each other. Dean's fingers spasmed and flicked along the rippling and bunching muscles in Sam's back, just feeling. Sam slid his hands up Dean's sides to rub and pinch at his nipples forcing Dean to throw his head back as he twisted in an involuntary squirm. Sam's lips attached themselves to Dean's throat, sucking, and all Dean could do was try to keep breathing through it all.

"Sammy," he managed to whimper, "Sammy go faster." For a moment Sam moved slower and Dean scrabbled at his back and let out the most pornographic sound he could utter. Sam's hips stuttered and then they were flying back and forth, slamming into Dean with such accuracy that Dean wrenched into a beautiful arch with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open in a silent scream, he couldn't even breath.

"Dean, look at me," Sam grunted, still pistoning into Dean at top speed. Dean let his eyelids flutter open and he let all the air stuck in his lungs out in a loud moan. Sammy looked like a debauched angel, his hair was ruffled and sticking out on one side, lips swollen cherry red and smiling, pupils blown wide with want, the pieces of hazel surrounding them were nearly glowing.

"Big brother," Sam breathed across Dean's mouth, "Come for me." Dean had been there for minutes and the husky words were dirty on his lips, he fell over the edge with a high keen as he managed to hit himself in the face and Sam in the chin with the force of his orgasm. Sam's hips jerked out of rhythm and then he was pulsating inside Dean, shooting slick wet warmth into him with an adorable little mewl.

Sam slumped to his elbows, bracketing Dean's shoulders and hanging his head into Dean's neck. Dean uncrossed his ankles to let his knees frame Sam's hips and wrapped his arms Sam's waist. The only remaining sound was their ragged breathing and the traffic outside.

"I feel way too sober right now," Dean muttered, turning his head to nuzzle at Sam's ear.

Sam hummed in agreement, "We've got the rest of that bottle of Jack," he murmured burrowing further into his big brother.

Dean thought about it, but this was a moment, and he couldn't bring himself to break this fragile thing they'd made together. "Nah, sober can be good." He grinned when he felt Sam smile against his skin.

"I think so too," Sam whispered then raised his head. Dean looked at his baby brother, just looked, and wondered how he hadn't seen the reciprocated feelings before. Dean had always loved Sam, loved him like no brother should, but he didn't think- hadn't even imagined that Sam would love him back the same way.

Sam yawned, "Stop thinking, for all your bitching about chick flick moments you sure imagine them often enough," he whined squirming a little and letting out a gasp as he realized that they were still connected. "Oh."

"Yeah, might wanna move soon, you've kinda got some spunk on your neck." Dean smiled up at His brother who grinned sheepishly back.

"Okay, I'm pulling out now." Sam shifted backwards slowly and Dean bit his lip as his sensitive walls decided to twitch and clench some more. By the time Sam got all the way out Dean's heart rate was elevated and he was getting horny again. "Sammy?"

Sam was already up and in the bathroom when Dean whispered his name, but he came back out with a warm washcloth to clean up with. So Dean did it again, leaning up on his elbows and crossing his ankles, "Sammy." Sam paused an smirked a bit walking over to Dean and pressing a quick dirty kiss on his lips.

"Yes, Dean?" Sam asked coyly

"I have a little problem and I can think of a way to fix it," Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Let me guess, it starts with your dick in my mouth?"

Dean winked.


End file.
